


come uneven, come undone

by mimosaeyes



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Established Relationship, F/F, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimosaeyes/pseuds/mimosaeyes
Summary: In the mornings, Claudia braids Rayla’s hair.For Raydia Week on tumblr, prompts: “domesticity”, “injury”.





	come uneven, come undone

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Sun is Shining” by Axwell & Ingrosso.
> 
> I’ll be posting two more, shorter ficlets for Raydia Week, but only on tumblr [here](http://mimosaeyes.tumblr.com/tagged/raydiaweek2018).

The courtyard is always most peaceful at this hour — at dawn. Rayla inhales deeply, exhales. Inhales again, and in the same motion unsheathes her sword.  

Slowly at first, with control as well as practiced ease, she begins running through the familiar forms. She traces elegant parabolas through the air, bending her knees to put a little more momentum behind each thrust and mimed parry. Her blade dances and flashes, catching the first beams of the rising sun.

Then she closes her eyes and returns to a neutral stance before starting over. The motions flow smoother still, now that she’s warmed up a little.

Balance. Breathing. Short of standing under a full moon, wielding a sword is the most powerful, the most _perfect_ she ever feels.

One last arc, a wide swing — stop! 

Rayla opens her eyes. The tip of her sword is half an inch from Claudia’s throat.  

She’s breathing hard by now, from the exertion, and Claudia’s chest rises and falls too. Out of fear, or exhilaration? The latter, it seems. When she meets Claudia’s gaze it is steady, unwavering. Trusting. 

“I told you to stop doin’ that,” Rayla chides, though good-naturedly. She lowers her blade. 

Claudia shrugs. “You knew I was coming from the moment I stepped onto these flagstones with my oh-so-lame and un-stealthy sandals.” 

Rayla remembers the day she first noticed Claudia’s choice of footwear. There was a fair amount of screaming, “WHAT ARE THOSE?” while Claudia giggled hysterically. 

“I swear you’ve kept them just to annoy me,” Rayla says drily. 

“Nah. I kept them because they make you laugh.” 

For a moment the simplicity of the sentiment, together with Claudia’s easy smile, snatches all the breath from her lungs. 

When Rayla can focus again, she carefully re-sheathes her sword. Claudia waits till she’s done, so she can take her hand. 

“Come on. We don’t want your students to see you with this wild bedhead.” 

Rayla makes a mock offended sound. “Excuse me. You _like_ my bedhead.” 

Claudia’s pulling her along toward their bedroom, so she calls back over her shoulder: “Of course I do, but unlike your students, I don’t have to stare at it while I try and take your whole way-of-the-warrior spiel seriously.” 

She sits her down in front of the mirror, picks up the comb, and begins taming the mess of silvery elven locks. 

Rayla loves this part of their morning routine, too. Claudia’s hands are always nimble and gentle as they tease out the tangles in her hair. She notices if Rayla needs a neck massage, and she knows all the pressure points to relieve muscle tension. (“Ahh, magic hands,” Rayla once sighed, as the tightness dissipated from around her neck. Claudia has never let her live that time down.)

After a couple minutes of companionable silence, she begins braiding Rayla’s hair. 

“Cute,” Rayla comments, watching it take shape in the mirror. 

Claudia clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Close your eyes! It’s a surprise today.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

Rayla feels her hands going round the back, deftly pulling her hair into a thick braid down the middle. When Claudia tells her to, in a murmur, she bends her head down. She stares at her lap. Twiddles her fingers.

Then there’s the silken pull of ribbon to secure the hair, and Claudia declares that she’s done. 

Rayla opens her eyes and tilts her head to the side to peer at her hair. 

“It’s… like Runaan’s,” she says softly. 

“I figured you could be twinsies today!” Claudia explains excitedly. “Same hair, matching uniforms, same…” 

She trails off, so Rayla says it for her. “Same missing hand. Well, arm, in his case.” 

Rayla extends both her arms in front of her. Her right hand, and the stump where her left hand used to be.

Claudia does her hair every morning because, while she can learn to use a single sword for both _slish_ and _slash_ , with only four fingers she’s hard-pressed to handle a braid.

“Sorry. Is it too much?” Claudia asks quietly. “I can change it, if you like. I just thought…” 

“It’s great,” Rayla says. “Thank you.” 

She feels Claudia’s hand land heavy on her shoulder. “I’ll see you at breakfast,” she says, turning to leave.

When Rayla lost her hand, when she almost lost Runaan, when she and Claudia were enemies… It’s ancient history, all of it. Hardly worth dwelling on.   

Except for this part of it. Rayla reaches up to touch her braid, as though she can feel the love that’s been woven into it. Like a spell. ( _Magic hands_.)

She knows Runaan’s husband will have done the same for him today. Maybe he even showed Claudia how he usually does Runaan’s hair. The thought makes her smile.

Rayla gives herself a moment more to mope. Then she jumps to her feet, and runs into the corridor to catch up with Claudia.

**Author's Note:**

> Rougher than my usual work because I’m rather busy, but there you go!
> 
> A note on ableism: Rayla and Runaan are gifted warriors who happen to have amputations in this ’verse. Their loved ones help them manage in small ways. I hope I handled that okay.


End file.
